There are iconic pizza joints everywhere you go
- Bryan Schaaf
- January 15, 2018
- 1777
I’m not big on activism. I don’t march. I don’t carry signs. I’m not clever enough to think up some witty, memorable rhyme that my fellow activists could chant.
But this particular matter is serious, so I’m officially getting on board with this: #SaveThePizzaParlor.
That’s because, like opinions, belly buttons and Star Wars movies, every American has a favorite pizza joint. Sometimes it’s based on truly exceptional pizza. Sometimes it’s based on nostalgia.
For the Shreve Pizza Parlor, it’s a good mix of both as far as I’m concerned.
But recently I read a notice that the building housing my favorite little pizza palace was going up for auction soon. And while the business has announced that it has no plans of closing, the building needs a new owner.
And it would be a shame if that didn’t happen.
That’s because, as with many small villages around Wayne County, small businesses are intricately woven into the civic fabric. Sure, businesses may come and go, but when the ones that have been around for ages start to fade, it pains us all.
In Shreve it was places like Homer Woods’ Barber Shop, Dick Scheck’s IGA, Marty Hershberger’s Shreve Mobile and of course The Pizza Parlor. Those were the classics. That’s a good day out while you’re waiting for your grandma’s hair appointment.
Places like this aren’t necessarily unique when it comes to small villages, but they were unique to my village.
Somewhere in my closet, I have an old, torn-up red T-shirt with remnants of a peeled-away No. 8 on the back and “The Pizza Parlor” written in black cursive lettering across the front.
It was my dad’s from way back in the day when he played fastpitch softball, naturally, for the team sponsored by The Pizza Parlor.
Some of my earliest memories involve that place, huddled around a tabletop Pac-Man game to keep us occupied while our pie was getting made, then devouring more pieces of pizza than once thought possible. Because, ya know, when they’re cut in rectangle shapes, you can fit more slices in your stomach.
If you’re from the southern part of Wayne County, Pizza Parlor should’ve been your thing. And if it wasn’t, well, somebody messed up.
In much the same way Wooster folks swear by their Coccia House and Jeromesville, people tout J-Ville Pizza; we wear our pizza preferences like a badge of honor.
If you travel, which I’m fortunate to do for my job, you’ll know there are truly some iconic pizza joints pretty much everywhere you go. The famous ones — like Frank Pepe’s, Pizzeria Mozza, Giordano’s — are all spectacular in their own way.
But no matter what fancy ingredients they may source, they can’t replicate the flavors burned into your memory bank.
That’s why, at least for me, there is nowhere that can replace the Shreve Pizza Parlor.
So, shameless as I am, I’m using my column space this week to put out the APB to all parties interested in being a landlord to the best little pizza joint of my soul.
#SaveThePizzaParlor — I’ll be eternally grateful if you would.